Flash Fiction #539 -- The Long Way Home/38

 

They headed straight for the docks, rushing through Aien's bailey and past her tower as fast as possible, though Rory still felt as though the world moved in strange ways by the time they were out of the area.

The others were yelling, and he thought they even spoke to him. Maybe he had sense enough to trust them and agree with whatever they said. Just continuing to move with them proved difficult enough.

There were also voices in his head, none of which he understood. They roared, and they whispered. Some shrieked so loud that he thought he would go deaf from the sound.

They kept moving. Rory was aware of the others close by, but they seemed so much like ghosts that he feared he had failed them and they'd died. No. He could sense them as living creatures, and all the more so when they passed by areas where the dead lay. There the actual ghosts fled, streaks of colors running from the battle, with no idea that it was already over for them.

The buildings shimmered, but not with genuine fire. Rory had no idea why there was so much magic in this city. It seemed filled with old powers that he only now sensed. Those powers were not unfriendly, but they were not for him. There were reasons Schiwen was a matriarchy and a powerful land besides. He even knew why the three queens had gathered here, even if they didn't know.

I will do you no harm, he promised. Not knowingly.

Rory had missed a lot of what the others were saying. Zorian finally noticed, probably because Rory kept heading off at an angle. A little magic brought him back to reality, although he wasn't sure this was where he wanted to be. They were close to the dock. People fought everywhere, and dragons howled in anger. The feel of magic in the air made him uneasy. That was mostly Pyrida, but some dragon magic mixed in as well.

And that worked in their favor.

Zorian had found a spot behind debris where they could study the situation. It didn't look good.

"Pyrida could be anywhere," Zorian said with a snarl. "He's laid down so much magic that it is impossible to sort him out from it!"

"So much magic, in fact," Rory added, "that if we are careful, he won't find us, either. This is a major mistake --something the books couldn't have warned him to avoid. Magic was rarely a part of any war."

Zorian looked uncertain for a moment, but then he nodded.    "I think you could be right. Other lands have used magic to a greater extent than we do. We never studied the art of magic and war."

"Weren't there books from other countries?" Andora asked.

"Yes, but not in our language -- not usually. Pyrida could have learned to read them, but I think he's lazy." Rory turned away from the battle and stared at nothing for a moment. "There was a time when we had a special relationship with the dragons, but I never looked into it. I thought they were legends for children."

"And these dragons are not playing,"  Jamison added. The sounds grew louder, and everything around them began to tremble.

"What do the Dragons want?" Zorian asked.  

"They want free," Rory replied. Then he felt startled by his own answer. "Really, they want free. That had always been the key point in the dragon stories, wasn't it? They all revolved around captured Dragons and what would happen if they were not released."

"Release them," Andora said. She dared to look over the edge of their hiding place and shook her head with a growing frown. "They appear to be trapped on the larger ships, but they may be breaking free. What happens, then? What happens if they get themselves free?"

Rory had no idea, but he suspected it would be --

An explosion shook the world around them, followed by a roar of sound that sent ice through Rory. Zorian had tried to protect them with a shield, but some of the debris got through, at least one piece hitting Rory with enough force that his right leg went numb. The others were starting to scramble away from the fire growing on the dock. At the same time, Zorian kept a shield held to hold back as much as he could, slowly backing up and nearly to where Rory tried to crawl away.

Tripped over him.

Rory realized what would happen just a heartbeat before Zorian fell. It gave him enough time to throw his own power into the shield, and though it flickered, it still held.

"Sorry, sorry," Rory mumbled and tried to get back to his feet. The numbness was gone now, though, and the ache became annoying, bordering on intolerable. He had trouble focusing --

Greenal swept in, grabbed him by the back of his jacket, and carried him away.

Rory had not been prepared to fly, especially not straight toward the battle. He tried to protest but couldn't get his breath back. Instead, he grabbed hold of Greenal's other clawed foot since he felt the jacket start to tear.

"Almost there!" Greenal shouted above the other sounds.

If he was going into battle, he had better be ready. Rory had no time to heal his leg, so he encased it in a magic shell.

They were descending, the world swirling beneath him, but he realized they would soon join some very annoyed dragons.

And Pyrida.

Rory decided on a pre-strike since he suspected Pyrida didn't realize he was coming in yet.

Rory sent a shaft of power straight down at the man. Pyrida only looked up with the power too close to stop. He tried to wave it away --

It still went through his head.

And Pyrida went insane...